Dances with DS

I never want to stop learning.  The world is an exciting sometimes mysterious place for me with many things to explore and discover. But sometimes I wonder if this streak in me is so very nice after all.  The shadow side of it is that I am never totally satisfied.  I get disappointed quickly.  I start to think maybe I can do ‘it’ (whatever ‘it’ is in the moment) better.

There’d be arrogance attached to this if it were not for the fact that I know so little about anything.  This means I become my own vessel of experimentation.  Which in turn means I have no choice but to take risks sometimes.

I began to research various possibilities for the chlorophyll angle of my ‘get to grips with the smell factor’.  I’m struck again by how much filler crap is sometimes added to the tablets we so often swallow. Stearic acid is but one of these .  On ’skin deep’ it has a low to moderate risk factor when topically applied, so what happens I wonder if day after day we consume it?  Does that higher the risk?  And precisely how much do we swallow per pill?  I don’t know…it might be midget amounts or it could be enough to cause longerterm probs.  On the other hand a working compound is often isolated meaning it is easier to take and possibly more effective.

But those fillers bug me.  So I turned to a jar of the natural green stuff.  Various spirulina, barleygrass and Alfalfa powder blended.  It arrived this morning and now I am having my doubts.  Oh my lawdy.  This is GREEN. It is grass for heavens sakes. It is a big punnet - overwhelming.  What am I doing?!!!!  I am not a cow. Usually.

The are not kidding when they call it ‘Supreme Greens’ :

http://mammaearth.com/green-superfood/cat_4.html

I am trying to drum up courage to sample it.  I will need around double the dose (I quite often double my dose to compensate for DS effects) to see if it does anything at all. So thats 4 teaspoons of the stuff. A veritable bowl of soup - ugh!   I am thinking maybe I can rather make a face mask out of it so it does not go to waste!  Such is my sudden reluctance to be the experimental vessel today.

I’m starting to live in wretched fear of my own endless creating. This green stuff and clay  I cannot think of anything less appealling but if I don’t do it I won’t know whether it works, nor if it is worth it.  When I swallowed clay for the first time I felt the excellent effect was worth the horror of slugging back liquid earth.  If I can reduce the clay amount it would probably be better…hence the green stuff addition. Plus as the clay might absorb my precious nutrients there is the possibility the green stuff might balance that a little .  The green stuff also has lots of natural copper & I can do with that as I continue to take high dose zinc. There may be unproven, speculative advantages in the combo. I frikkin hope so!

I’m thinking on how I took a similar partly -proven, speculative gamble on a very large scale with my DS. I checked out every facet of the bodies biology and the exact way surgery would impact that,  in as much as I could beforehand.  I am still today amazed that so few WLS candidates don’t bother to do this. The surgeon says it works and away they go into what can be no mans land sometimes.      I dunno - it strikes the fear of the gods into me, but we all understand desperation, so I am not judging. Just observing.   I’m glad to this day that I did not opt for so called ’safer’ surgeries. So far my DS has appeared both safer and more effective generally speaking than what is on mainstream offer in WLS world. I understand exactly why it is not offered as mainstream - and I don’t buy the ‘ DS is riskier thing’  but I won’t go into that here because I might get started in a way that is even too big for me to handle.

Of course I might just be biding my time & one day it comes back to bite me on the bottom.  But so far - I’d say the riskiest weight loss surgery has come out tops. In my life anyway. Maybe in the abstracts written about it too.

But back to other matters.

I have been painting my kitchen.  It’s a good thing as my energy is way high. I think I get used to a high activity level when I travel with all the walking I do (sometimes I walk all day nearly!).  It’s looking crisp & clean & I feel happy I am doing something constructive about my delapidated half cooked house.

The weekend is here & I need to crack on with things.  I am making several ‘custom’ facial serums for people I know with allergies to mainstream cosmetics.  I started this cosmetic malarky not long ago & made a few gifts and now I have friends calling me to say ‘I’ve run out of my cream!!!’   I don’t mind supplying them as I love to be challenged and I believe that a product tailored to the user also has a certain happiness factor that money can’t buy.  I like being part of that vibration. 

To these ends, a bag of Babassu oil arrived this morning and I am in deep love with it. It is so so beautiful and I am so inspired and just itching to work with it.  It is a semi solid oil but the magic is it sinks into my skin leaving not a trace of grease, just a gentle softness. This is a rare quality as most oils either take a lot of time to sink into the skin or leave a sweaty shine. Not this baby!  It has a cooling effect as it is applied but not in the harsh way a menthol or mint would have. There is no sudden rush attached to it, it soothes.  How I wish I had known about it when I was a pre-op and had a dried out skin for several months. It would have been perfect and itis really that good that it could be used alone as a moisturiser. So if you are a new dry skinned post-op, throw out all those rubbish artificial creams. Order a bag of this - you are highly unlikely to regret it. When I have the time I will post up a special easy recipe for Babassu Post op butter/cream…and I shall tentatively reveal my source for obtaining it too.

It will be the base in my serums.  I also got some Monoi ‘d Tahiti oil which is made by distilling Gardenia flowers into virgin coconut oil.  The soft floral scent of it is absolutely gorgeous. In South Africa I had Gardenia’s in my garden and as evening fell the air would fill with this fragrance direct from heaven.  This oil retains the exact notes of a live blooming moonlit gardenia bush.  I’m not against carefully chosen synthetics in perfumes, but today I wonder why even bother with bought perfumes?  They all smell the same to me in many ways within their ‘types’.  Again - I want more.

And my friends there is more to be had.  This oil is a good start to that ‘moreness factor.’ It is probably ‘beginners bliss’ on my part but suddenly I am feeling like there is another amazing world of scents and fragrances to explore.

What is wonderful is how the fragrance has lasted on my skin. Natural fragrance oils often have a short skin life. I applied some several hours ago and it is still holding firm. It has dried down a little but has a kind of aura as if it floats in the air around me when I move.   I think it is gentle enough for some of my allergen endowed friends to have a little of diluted into the serum but we’ll patch test first to be sure.

Enough now - my but I have rambled on today. Let me get on with all things pending!

Hope you enjoy your weekend - have a good one!

WARNING:  contains writing of a poop/rectal related nature - do not read if such things appall you.

(And try not to plump for malabsorptive WLS either if that is the case.) 

The bane of travelling in company is that I am anxious as anything about sharing confined spaces, co-living area’s and especially shared bathrooms with friends. I only just bring myself to stay with family members on account of it.  Now, 7 years after surgery I am trying to face all my insecurities about this. It’s a hard one and recently even spending the night with friends in Kitzbuhel had me reduced to nervous wreck status.  It’s the explaining about the pong factor that haunts me and the fact that on my DS journey I have had some awful experiences in public toilets with people slanging out vomiting noises and abusive statements (while I sat miserably on the loo waiting for them to depart!). Happily the smell is vile enough that no one lingers for long so the abusive slangs are only seconds worth!  I did discover after those episodes a fantastic spray odour remover which helps me hugely but still I sweat this stuff.  There are times I have forgotten to travel with spray & had to face the public loo without my safety blanket.  In any event - the long and short of it is that with the stress my gut seizes from all the tension, I bloat & go all gastric. I hardly sleep and beg my bowels to move before any household members wake up.  I open windows, spray heavily, courtesy flush…go through a whole palaver.

To avoid all that, my preference is to stay in a nearby hotel rather than in homes. But the drawback is that it has an impact on Pete who loves to socialise and be with people.  It also is a bit cr*p to always dip out of generous heartfelt offers to stay with people one cares for.  The overnight stay in Kitzbuhel was as it was, fine.  But I did faff and panic over the bowel stuff and I had a rough night on account of myself.

Now there is an invitation to travel trans-Africa for 14 days through game parks in November with friends. Windhoek & Botswana mostly. It’s chock full of great adventures, close encounters with game animals, bungee jumping, white river rafting, copter ride over the zambezi falls, even walking with lions - yikes, not sure about that one!

Pete’s face lit up at the thought.  But the first thing I thought of was the public loo’s en route. Second thing - the wind.  When I mentioned this to him his face kind of fell & I felt so bad because I know I impede his life in this way and tbh it is not fair. So I have to do something - right?

Now I don’t get huge volumes of wind as I used to in my first years with la DS, but everyone let’s off and the prob is a DS let off is wayyyyy more potent. There is no blaming the dog I am afraid.  It also lingers enough to make one paranoid. I know some DSers who  swear even though they ran from the scene the evil smell followed them!!!

In my own home or space my family & I are unbothered.  I use the spray & everyone knows to give it a few secs (with spray) or  a few mins (without spray) before using the bathroom after me.   I don’t want any pre-ops to think it is totally unbearable (as I once feared) - generally it is not. Infact 99% of the time it’s no issue. But the other 1% becomes a 100% issue for me when sharing room/bathroom with friends or strangers. It can be a tough one.

Anyhoo,  I also realllly want to do this trip. It’s so fantastic and full of wonderful sights.  It is rough - travelling by a kitted truck with around 10 others, camping in the bush… using public loo’s or shitting in the bush. 

I am making a plan of attack now to combat the smellies.  An internal regimen and several spray/loo bowl options.

For the wind - I shall be experimenting over the next week with a homemade mix comprised of bentonite clay, devrom, chlorophyll. Another possibility includes using acidophilus, chlorophyl and lactase together which I believe might be a very good wind reducer.

The spray I have works very effectively for taking care of ‘outside’ odours, but I shall try to maximise it & adapt it to a scent that I would prefer. I’m thinking a tiny hand spray to use inconspiciously in company, that does not reek of tell tale lav citrus might be a good plan. I doubt I will use it as I long ago developed the bum muscle to hold in any gas factor which is hectically uncomfy but can be done. I just want to play it safe.

I am also going to try to find an ‘in bowl’ pong destroyer.  I’d love to find something like this  as I often fret about the use of chemical sprays in small confined spaces and the inhalation of them.  So far we haven’t had much choice but to resort to them, but it can’t be good for one’s health longerterm.

Talk about going it from every angle.

I know it looks like major effort & it is, but I am hoping I can pare down some of these approaches into a slick little pong prevention routine!

Once I have this sorted I am never ever again going to feel anxious about this issue. No more excuses not to broaden the scope of my social life!  That’s a promise to myself! 

Over and above that I’ll need to get flagyl. This will probably mean a long arm twisting episode with my GP no doubt. Sigh. I’m looking forward to asking for it like a hole in the head!

In the past (just hoping that has changed) my GP’s  don’t seem believe in prevention, but if I’m out in the bush in Africa it’s not like there will be a pharmacy to hand. There will be a doc (friend of friends) on the journey & maybe he will come equipped but I can’t count on that!   It’s always risky for me when I travel to countries where hygiene standards are not top brass.  I don’t fancy a bout of the trots on a bus!!!  I must also order enough protein shooters to ensure I don’t fall short and sort out the vitamin needs.

Lot’s of experimenting to follow so if the smell factor concerns you sometimes watch this space!

I have arrived back home and Zenni keeps staring at me with reproachful eyes.  How could I leave him for so long when he is such a good boy?  Inbetween I am shadowed by him, he needs the lap, he gazes at me constantly. Zenni always makes me laugh.  Ruby on the other hand is like a jumping bucking mad dog. She keeps expressing her joy that we are home by hucklebutting all over the house. Only bull terriers hucklebutt as far as I know. It’s like a crazy spurt of running and leaping buck-like all in one.  It’s so good to see them again.

Our drive home was a good two day trip. We drove from Zagreb to Kitzbuhel in Austria where we spent the night with some good friends in a chalet perched high on the mountain. It was great to see them and catch up on all their news.

The next day we drove through Germany and a highlight for me was a  visit to the Krankenhuis Hospital  in Frankfurt where my real journey and the rebirth of my body and all related to it,  began in May 2002.  I wanted to see Prof Weiner to thank him for changing the course of my destiny and for giving me a surgery that has enabled me to live my life in a full and meaningful way.

It was a highly emotional visit for me.  The memories of that day in 2002 came thick & fast.  I remembered the fear I had. How I worried that I might not make it through the weight loss surgery. Would I ever eat again? Would I be pooping around every corner with diahorrea lifelong?  Would surgery keep the weight off longerterm?  What if I had complications?    I remembered Pete’s face as I was wheeled away into theatre, it was an expression of grave concern and deep love that I travelled into theatre with. I recalled the weird green cap I wore,  the prick of the anaethesetic, the last moment before everything became a deep sleep,  the Prof tending to me in the kindest way from beginning to end. The nurses who did all they could to help me through the first scary ‘babystep’ days. So many memories and more bubbled up inside me.

I had arrived there heavy in my heart. Not particularly wanting weightloss surgery but knowing I had no choice.  The Prof remembered my depression as well. It must have been so tangible. I can’t remember if I told him that without surgery I could not live anymore. That suicide lived close to me in that last year of suffocation by an ever expanding body that in my mind had become the enemy. Ever growing no matter how I tried to halt it’s destructive course. Ever hungry. Like a beserk monster it was out of control and I was beyond desperate with it all.

He was busy - in theatre operating when I arrived. I had tried to call him from Kitzbuhel but could not reach him.  So we chanced a visit, explaining at reception why we had come. He came down from theatre and did not recognise me until I stood up to hug him. He was visibly surprised to see me and  exclaimed that he could only remember my eyes!  Not surprising as I am around 60 kilo’s lighter than I was back then!  It was too wonderful to see him again. He seems to have not changed at all.  We discussed many things - memories, my bowel obstruction , my overall health now (typical surgeon, he wanted to know the technical details! ), the duodenal switch in general.  Most of all I could at last thank him, face to face, for giving me a surgery that changed everything about my life and that continues to work at combating the dreadful disease that severe obesity is.  It is impossible to express one’s thank you in words really but I did my best!  I had to swallow hard to prevent myself from weeping with gratitude.

Then we travelled on arriving at Calais to catch the ferry at 11 pm. We finally touched our home ground at around 2 am.   I have NEVER enjoyed a cup of genuine home brewed English tea as much!

Life looks set to carry me on into further travels soon.  I am still obsessing with trying to complete this house which is all half done on the renovation front.  It’s looking well nigh impossible. It’s give it up for now & travel or bite the bullet and stay put until it is completed. I’m shite at surrending to Life. Deep down I must be a bit of a control freak. But Life is not always orderly and neat.  Right now I will flow with it the best I can and continue to travel until life spits me back up on my unfinished doorstep. But more about all that later.

 The weekend seems to fly past and today Pete is back at work.  Yesterday we decided to explore the mountain area on the outskirts of Zagreb. We drove on a winding pass high up through the woods to try to get an eagles view of the city. Unfortunately the air was foggy and so no views but the drive alone was worth it. There are some wonderful nature trails for those who fancy walking through the woods in this part of town.

After that we decided to visit Varazdin for the afternoon.

Varazdin is about 90km northeast of Zagreb.  It is quite close to the Slovenian and Hungarian borders.

In the 18th Century Varazdin was the Capitol of Croatia.   It s a beautiful Baroque town. We spent Sunday walking through its streets admiring all the amazing old buildings. It was quite strange in a way as aside from the Kavannas (coffee houses) which are always open it seems - the shops were all closed. Some streets were entirely deserted ghost town style.  It never bothered me as I had come to look at the old buildings and just walk the streets,  but for others wanting to stop over there and do a spot of shopping and sense stret action, Sunday would not be a wise plan.  However,  if you are in Zagreb try to get there despite it being a bit of a detour,  as it is well worth a look.

That said, our first impression of the town was row apon row of ugly concrete flats and a huge industrial park.  We wondered out aloud what the heck we were doing there!  Then the old town came into view and what a wonderful place it is!   My first memory of it will be the church steeples and the red roofs in the distance.   The buildings are magnificent.  Some are very in need of restoration but that would be a massive and expensive undertaking. Oddly they would be tatty anywhere else, but here they just exude charm! They still wear faded coats of the original earth pigments they were painted with, mellow and patinated.  Some of the buildings are in very good condition and well maintained and overall the entire town is very well intact.  We had a great time exploring the streets.

We contemplated eating out at Agava - a superb restaurant in Zagreb. It sits against a hill overlooking the night life area of Zagreb. We have eaten there twice now with me plumping for the traditionally prepared Octopus and veggie dish.  It comes in a bowl and is basically octopus, potato, carrot and a tomato sauce that tastes out of this world.  It is so delish that I would gladly eat it a third time!  Pete has said both his meals have been delicious too. I forget what he had the first time but last time he had a beef dish and it looked done to perfection.  Anyhoo we felt too knackered to walk there and so had room service instead.   Perhaps we will go to Agava tonight although I feel Pete is going to vote for Boban again! Or maybe we will try something new…shall decide later.

http://www.restaurant-agava.hr/english.htm

We may be here another day…will only know later on. Pete is desperate to get home as its been 4 weeks away for him and he is very much missing his Ruby girl.  It looks like no sooner will we be back home than he will be onto the next trip to Poland. Both of us are slightly panicked at the mo - we dont know how to work out a viable schedule.  There are trips looking pretty likely (though not set in stone) to Australia & Brazil. Pete would like me to accompany him on those.  Inbetween we must get to South Africa to spend time with Petes mom.  Im kind of writing off that the house will be completed anytime soon…its very half baked right now.  I was hoping to sell it next summer and move on,  but this looks less and less likely.   I can see though, that to fret about it would not be smart so I will just try to ignore the unfinishedness of it all.  The good thing is when it is not staring me in the face driving me to the brink of frustration and annoyance - Im only too pleased to get out of there! lol.

Here in Zagreb the horse chestnuts outside my hotel window have suddenly changed from green to russet colours.  We have had a sudden cold snap and autumn is in the air. At night it is getting chilly.  I came with only a few outfits and one cardi so today I will be trying to find a decent sweater to see me through our last days here.

So I had better get going - on with the day then!  Hope your day is a lovely one too. 

Today we decided to take a trip out to Samobor, a picture perfect little town that nestles in a narrow mountain valley.

We  sat in the small square surrounded by cobbled lanes and ordered the local speciality - a sort of custard tart and white coffee’s.  The custard tart reminded me very much of a south African traditional tart called ‘melktert’ or milktart, except the Samobor version is as light and fluffy as can be - almost like a souffle and melt in the mouth yummy!

We spent a little time just doing our usual street walk and then decided to drive around the mountains that back the village.  It is a stunning drive through deep woods and little settlements with people tending to daily work. Most of the people have allotment type plots only on their own land. Here are corn fields, huge golden pumpkins still on the vine, peas staked on upright poles and almost always they grow tomatoes and flowers. Bright zinnias and roses line the pathways to the houses and a  clear mountain stream flows over stones next to the road.

Everywhere there are religious shrines by the roadside and it was near to one of these  that Pete suddenly put the car into reverse. I did not even have time to ask him what on earth he was doing!  He pulled to a stop and then I saw it too - a tiny kitten, perhaps 9 weeks old at most although it was hard to tell because the poor little thing was so emaciated.  It has to be the thinnest little thing I have ever seen, it’s ribs stuck out, it was just a scrap of skeleton covered in fur really.  It came straight to the car meeeowing and tried to climb up onto Pete’s lap.  Omg - what to do?

We could not just leave it there to starve to death or get run over.  Pete put it deep in some undergrowth further off the road and we beat a hasty turn around back to the nearest village where we found the local supermarket and bought cat food and milk for it. Then rushed back to the spot. Again it came straight for the car and tried desperately to get in literally climbing up Pete’s leg with it’s last strength. So we lifted it up and fed it some of the food.  sitting on my lap, it ate as if it had not seen food for weeks.  I  doubt she’d had a thing to eat in at least a week and before that she must have survived on minimal food intake too. But the thing that is so curious was her behaviour.  I still can’t get over the fact that she did not behave as most feral kittens do.  She may have been past caring, but usually feral kittens hiss and spit and to get into a car is not something even my domestic spoiled little moggies would ever have done.

So there we are on the roadside with the little kitten eating away. She was ill and  coughed several times but there was no eye infection or sign of outer infection.  We wrapped her in a towel we had and drove down the road to a local pub.  There I had to summon up the courage to take the kitten into the pub and try to plead for help, because no way could I just leave it helplessly at the roadside.

My first impressions for the quest for help were not good. It was clearly a place locals gathered to take in some brew. As I walked to the entrance past the packed tables people tittered, pointed and laughed at what must have been an odd sight of me with kitten wrapped in red towel.  I just ignored them & kept going, but my heart was beating in my chest.

At the bar the waiter appeared dour at first. He eyed me with suspicion while I blurted out my story of finding it near the shrine (desperately hoping that injecting a little local religion might help my cause!   :roll:    ), how she was on a busy road etc. His face softened somewhat so I carried on like a looney tune about how special it was that a kitten would ask for help by climbing into the car. He nodded as if he understood and looked me up & down still wordless. I could sense he was not going to reject us.  I then said we would be very happy to pay for it’s care. To my surprise he spoke good english.   He replied that of course he would help and please not to pay for anything.  I could put the kitten near the back of the property off the road. It was okay not to leave milk for it as they had plenty of milk but the cat food would be useful.

We went out the back where I apologised for burdening him - but I told him what could I do?  I would take her home with me if I could but my home was in England.  He said ‘ humans who do not care for animals do not care for humans either.’   I can tell you - I could have hugged the man (but of course I refrained!)  Our luck was in!

We found a box and made the kitten a shelter of it with stones and old pieces of wood. Next to it I left a bowl of milk and plenty of food.  The kittie ate a little more and then she climbed up onto my knelt knee and looked straight at me and as I stroked it’s little head it purred loudly.  Oh my heart!  Of course I was in tears and still am just writing about it,  because in my country I would never have left it, not even to the kind mercy of a complete stranger with a very good heart.

When I turned to walk away she followed me. I had to put her back into her new box home.  I told her to be strong and to never lose her will to live and that as sad as it was us two could not be together, she should carry on giving life her best shot. She seemed to know what I was on about because this time she stayed put’ sitting at the entrance of her new house as we drove off.

Back here at the hotel I did a web search to see if there is any way at all I can get her back to the UK.  I was thinking even if it had to undergo vetenary inspections etc plus 6 months quarantine , we’d cope with that.  I thought even if I could get her to friends in Europe interim who could care for her, it would be worth a try. But because she is ill and coughing I doubt there is anything I can do sadly.  I’d need to be here a lot longer to try to shift a plan and also to get her into good health first. I then tried to find an SPCA here in Zagreb.  Not a chance!  It seems no such thing exists.  Or if it does it is not advertised in English.

I’m very upset and sad tonight - I wish I could do more. Maybe some one reading this knows of a way to smuggle a wee kitty through the borders ( I should add I know this is a no way thing but it does not stop me from wishing I could! ) - or a legit way. Or even of an animal welfare group here in Zagreb. If so please let me know - depending on how you are viewing it you can click on ‘no comments’ (top left beneath the heading) which will take you in, or scroll down to leave a reply.

l felt so terrible having to walk away.  But I shall probably have to hope that she worms her way into the kindly mans heart.  I hope he sees that really she is a most extraordinary kitten, full of character and love, well worth caring for.  At least she has a fighting chance at life.   Driving away, Pete tried to comfort me. He said if she survives she’ll become  the special pub cat - and never go hungry ever again.

I hope so - I really really do.  I kind of like that thought very much.

Just as we are about to leave the bank gives Pete further reasons to stay. Understandable as updating systems is a nerve wracking thing for them & they seem to have a branch on every second block in Zagreb which must add to the anxiety and pressure.

I am not complaining!

It looks like we will be out of here on Tuesday but things could change again.

Meantime I am discovering Zagreb.  I went on a private mission to find some fig jam for gifts when I return to the UK.  I had looked before but apart from a superb rosehip jam which I love - no fig.  I walked through the back streets of Zagreb and went into a tiny grocery store & there it was!  Sorted! I like to walk off the beaten track in Cities because in these parts of a town the real life unfolds.  And when one is in a strange place even the ordinary can feel extraordinary.

I still have my daily gratitude moments for this weight loss surgery, once exploring cities would have been out of the question. I could never have walked as I do -hours on end with no shortness of breath and no swollen painful limbs.

Yesterday I walked effortlessly up 4 flights of stairs in the Museum Mimara.  Well in some ways. But it was not severe obesity impeding my flow. I had stubbed my toe with a vengeance on a piece of metal sticking out of the grounds at the Mimara and it quickly swelled into a mass of bloodclot & bruising.  Hobbling rather pathetically, I still walked tirelessly around all the wonderful exhibits that inhabit the huge halls.  And then I hobbled about 30mins back to the hotel and to my surprise I was not even a little knackered!

However my toe throbbed like the blazers and seemed to be swelling by the minute.  So off I staggered along to the pharmacy where I was able to buy some arnica & chamomile gel plus plasters.  The pharmacies here are interesting as they all sell traditional herbal meds alongside the more expensive manufactured drugs. Perhaps because herbs are cheaper and sometimes as effective as conventional meds, there still seems to be a big market for them.

But I digress.  I wanted to write that the Mimara is a wonderful museum full of exquisite pieces. I spend many hours there enjoying the Eastern exhibits in particular.  There are some amazing paintings as well. I saw some Turner, Goya, Degas ,Van Dyck among many other notable pieces.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimara_Museum

The other museum I have seen is the Archeaological museum. This is housed in a magnificent yellow ochred grand dame of a building.  It is quite small as museums go, but the exhibits are top quality, particularly the upper two floors.  There is a beautifully presented Egyptian exhibit area. The other part of this museum that I found interesting was the exhibit centered around  cave finds in Croatia which were important archeaological dig sites.

I m not quite done on the museum front yet.  I still want to peruse the Ethnographic museum. Perhaps after that my visual perception for all things historical  will be well & truly satiated.

On my walk to the Mimara I did discover a good old Costa coffee place where they serve genuine lattes just how I like them.  I was well pleased!  It gets tiring to try to explain the white coffee story and end up with an expresso with a drop of milk because one confused the issue by saying “coffee with milk please”.  Coffee with milk is not white coffee.  

I m eating very well.  Possibly too well. We ate at Zinfandels which is one of the hotels restaurants, a couple of nights ago. The food is fresh and beautifully flavoured and presented but 500 kune for two of us is steep imo…even with all the reputation and presentation. Still it was a most enjoyable experience.

http://theregentzagreb.com/cs/Satellite?cid=1115806209045&pagename=Regent%2FPage%2FreHotelArticle&language=en&hotelCode=zagr1

Sometimes we laze out and just get room service which is a  table wheeled into the room, beautifully set with crisp white linen, flowers and tasty food on board. We might try Le Bistro which is also in the hotel, some time this weekend.

I feel I am living the lush life of riley here, but oddly I miss just simple homemade food and have in the lap of all this luxury developed a deep craving for a slowcooked homemade chicken stew with lemon thyme,  mushrooms and red wine plus mash on the side and peas,  of all things!

Last night we visited a restaurant called Boban - good food at a good price.  A nice Australian chap who has lived here for years recommended it to Pete as they traveled to ground floor in the hotel lift!  It is frequented by the Zagrebers and is situated in an old basement.  I like the unpretentiousness of it. Most dishes are pasta and Pete thought his chicken pasta was out of this world.  I had a massive turkey breast fillet with cheese & ham plus mushrooms on the side, which was very tasty.  I left some as I just could not manage it. Leaving food in Croatia is always met by the host worrying that one did not like the food.  Twice I have left food on my plate and been worriedly asked if I was unhappy with my meal.  I just say the food was delicious but I only have a little tummy which leads to smiles of relief!

The brekkies in this hotel are lavish affairs.   This morning  I had a yogurt,  2 slices of cheese, 2 slices of ham, followed by 2 poached eggs and toast plus a generous helping of bacon. I washed it all down with 2 cups of coffee. Then I felt alarmed  because it seems that sometimes I can pack back a lot of food.  What is perhaps worse is that I know just the eggs and bacon would do me fine, so effectively,  I am overeating. Why do I do this?  I am not sure. I do think the lavish displays make me want to eat as I am very visually motivated. At the last hotel where the brekkie was way less lavish & pretty basic I did not keep reeaching for ever more to put on my plate.  I don,t know if this is “normal” … probably natural skinnies also eat more when presented with gorgeous looking grub. But unlike them, my visions of the old days return and that is a place I pray I will never revisit.   Having pondered it,  I do think it will balance out over the next few days and I will probably only eat a light lunch today as this body needs a rest now!

All that aside did I mention that I am falling in love with Croatia?

It might just be the buzzy high of travelling through some of the most beautiful areas I have ever seen. It s easy not to go a tad starry eyed on oneself when from a high mountain vantage point one looks over blue-blue sea flanked by little coves of humanity, crooked pines and olive trees green the islands, boats in full sail out in the distance, old cities of caramel stone are highlighted as the sunset blazes with intense colour and sweeps across the vast sky.

It may also be that the days are blessed with sunshine and warmth, that life is not the usual stressy pace here even though Pete is working hard, that there is time to just sit and be.   To further spin her magic on me Croatia reminds me in some ways of South Africa.  Mountains, sea, grape vine, ripe fig, valley, pink roadside oleander bushes, purple bougainvillea creepers sprawling over walls, smell of herbs after a sudden swiftly passing downpour, the scent - thick sweet and heavy of jasmine permeating the warm evening air  as dusk falls, dinner on the patio, sarongs, sandals and the smell of suntan lotion!.. brings it all back to me.

I probably will cry a little  inside when I leave it.  Much like I do each time I leave Cape Town because I am a nostalgic silly nutcase.  Also I always feel my own terrible unrootedness when I leave a place that has a homely kind of feel for me.

I feel we have only skirted about on the surface here regarding our explorations. That there is so much more I would want to discover and experience.

Still it will be good too, to roll back into the UK and see my children & dogses again…and drink some proper tea!  lol.

And I can believe it!

It is a stunningly beautiful country well worth a visit if you are thinking of taking a holiday.  Our journey by car through Croatia has been wonderful.  Most of our traveling has been on mountainous coastal roads, with breathtaking views of the azure blue Adriatic sea dotted with coves and islands.  Occasionally we have detoured lazily through valleys full of orchards laden with lemons, tangerines, vines, figs, nut trees, pomegranates, olives and veggie patches lovingly tended.  Sometimes we find ourselves drenched in warmth and sunlight high on mountain peaks breathing in pure air that has the scent of cypress and pine.

We started our journey in Split.  Pete had driven from the UK,  a trip of 14 hours plus, including some stops. I thought he would be knackered but he said it was a fantastic drive.  A week later I flew from Gatwick to Split Airport where Pete picked me up.

Just outside Split on the coast Pete had booked us a superb room with sea views, just steps from the beach.  I went for a swim one morning and was amazed to see the most exquisite little tropical fish swimming all around me.

I know I swore I would never wear a bikini, but I did, in the end, after I spotted a great little boobie lifting number at one of the markets.  People here are as they are - no one seems to give a toss what you, or they, look like and so I nervously braved the bikini. While the tummy scar is not exactly pretty and there is a little skin hang I can just about get away with that upper abdominal area of my body.  The panni area is low down and has about an inch of overhang that can be pushed relatively flat by tight knickers!.

However  I could not quite bring myself to reveal the draping post weight loss surgery inner thighs. To conceal them I bought some cute little shorts - well I thought so anyway, until floating on my back in the blue ocean, I glanced down to see a couple of front seams. I realised then that my cute shorts might well be unders.  Boys unders to be precise.

Still, a tad late to discover that small but salient possibility.  No one stared anyway and that was one of the best swims I have ever had, unders and all. 

After several days in idyllic Split I thought we must have seen the best  the land had to offer.  The beach where our hotel was, was spectacular, the water was warm and so clear near the shore that one could look at all the sea life living in the rocks beneath ones feet.  We had the good fortune of one of Petes collegues and mates who is a Croatian taking us on an incredible journey through the old Diocletian palace at Split and later we walked the hillside town together through moonlit cobbled alleys and past flowering jasmine and Oleander bushes listening to tales of Croatian life.

http://www.ourplaceworldheritage.com/custom.cfm?action=WHsite&whsiteid=97##_self
In the nearby town of Omiš we explored a mountain river, walked through the old town and sampled the best wine we have ever drunk before. (Tip…if in Croatia buy a bottle of Pelješac Vinarija Dingač.)  It was so good even I polished off a glass which is an exception for me as I seldom drink.

Pete was asked by the bank he is working for here to stay on to be present for a major computer change in the offing. So our trip was happily extended. We decided to use the interim time exploring more of Croatia & drove from Split to Dubrovnik in the “silver bullet” (Petes convertible) wind through our hair, sun on the body, African music playing, bliss.   All the way on this trip we had to pull over to admire the incredible scenery. It was a surprising journey as each turn of a corner opens up a valley view, or a string of green jewel islands dotted in the ocean, or a cove with fishing boats…

In Dubrovnik we visited the awesome Old City.  If I thought Split was amazingly fantastical, Dubrovnik is one of the most incredible places I have had the privilege to visit.  Here the attitude to heritage sites is wholly refreshing. The old city is still lived in. It houses people and nothing is untouchable or too precious not to be touched and be touched by. I can see the minor merits of banishing people from all but a visual look at the great historic sites in the UK, but suddenly it did seem all a little up ones backside to be frank.  I love the feeling that what is, should be allowed to change if need be, the unfrozeness about it all, the chance to truly feel part of something majestic and larger than time itself. The attitude that even today will one day be history too.  No ever lurking security guard to put one firmly in place should one put a foot down in the wrong place. No assumption that humans are inately bad destructive people who will destroy our heritage!  Instead kids play in the squares, old folk sit on shaded benches playing cards, cats and birds live in the walls.  Here one can feel the old stonework…it is magical. I don t think the place has suffered as a result in the least.  Both the people & the place benefit. Being here has made me reconsider the meaning of conservation as well as question if the way it is implemented is truly necessary.

http://www.ourplaceworldheritage.com/custom.cfm?action=WHsite&whsiteid=95

In Croatia I  have especially enjoyed the local knowledge on herbal medicine.  People here are blessed with many wild herbs and they know how they are used.  Many an hour I have been taught the ropes of a particular use for a herb standing in the umbrella-d shade of a small roadside stall.  Sometimes language has been a barrier but most locals speak enough english for us to communicate.  Half my suitcase is packed with St Johns Wort, various beautifully fresh cold pressed oils, the best lavender oil I have ever smelled, melissa, fresh camomile flowers, linden blossom, wild thyme and more. Pete is happy to let all this transpire as he bites into the biggest roadside bought peaches we have ever seen!

For those who are into natural cosmetics etc there is a little shop called Aromatica in Split & Zagreb. Here you can buy many local herbs and oils and they sell a rose perfume to die for!  It is partly natural, partly synthetic because thats the only way a perfume lasts unfortunately.  Essential oils quickly evaporate. Anyway this rose oil is the closest to a natural rose garden I have ever smelled. Gorgeous!

On the DS front the bowels have been good.  The only thing is that stopping at garages seems to be the way of our journey as I think being jigged about in the car prompts bowel empting mode.  And I hate using public loos more than anything but there we go , needs must.  The current problem is that my kidneys are taking strain.  To my irritation, it seems I must drink an extraordinary amount of water to clear my bladder effectively. Iro 3 frikkin miserable liters.  I think the heat affects my waterworks & in conjunction with my concentrated protein intake its not the best match.  Its a dayum hassle and for me not an easy thing even at the best of times. I am back at new post oppie status sip sip sipping all day long once more. Ugh.

Last week it was touch & go whether we would stay here or leave for South Africa in a rush. We got terrible news that Petes mom has bowel cancer that would cause a blockage if not operated on asap. We worked out that even if we tried to catch flights home we would still miss seeing her before the op and so we spent a fraught few days hoping she would pull through surgery and almost glued to the phone for news about her. Thankfully she has survived surgery but the cancer has spread.  We are now planning to go to South Africa soon to spend some quality time with her.  We are both pretty gutted about this sudden turn in events as we love her dearly.

So here I am in  the capitol of Zagreb.  Pete is doing his work thing right now and I miss him!  But still the city has kept me busy. There is much to do. I am staying at the Regent Esplanade Hotel and it is perfectly located near to all the museums and street action. We have had the intrigue of a bodyguard on our floor who looks us over each time we step out of the lift! Kind of makes me brick it because it would just be my luck for some major shoot out to happen on my doorstep.

Within easy walking distance there are beautiful parks with fountains and grand old architecture lines the main street.  Everywhere there are coffee bars and it s a very lively place to be.

What is also great is to get to use the computer again -  I have not been near one since I left home as Pete uses the lappie to work on. This one is kindly lent to us by one of Petes colleagues for my stay here. It is Croatian & full of funny charačters!  I cant find the aspostrophe key so my blog is without them today!

We are due to leave Zagreb on Thursday - a whole week later than we intended to leave!  The plan is a trip home in the silver bullet via Switzerland and then through France possibly over a couple of days. We are as yet unplanned!

Oh, before I forget I was asked for any tips/insights regarding traveling in Croatia. So here they are:

• First off I would say it is worth hiring a car, if you don t want to drive up from the UK.   But prepare for some hair raisingly dodgy moments on coastal mountain passes as there are some serious cowboys on those roads.  We nearly had 3 head ons in the space of one fraught hour there and Pete has had to adopt a very pre-emptive driving style. Go very slowly around all the blind corners.  In the cities the driving is much better it seems.

• If driving through Croatia use the toll roads. They cost but they are quality.  From Dubrovnik to Zagreb we paid in the region of 180 Kune. Driving on them is the safest as there is plenty of space to escape the odd bad driver.  They also  save a lot of time.

• If you dont say you dont want bread with your meal you will get it & will be charged for it.

• A latte is a rare bird here. Try asking for “white coffee ” instead. You may get lucky or you may get an expresso anyway, as I did!

• Probably holds true anywhere, but if no one is eating at a restaurant or it is half empty there is a reason why. Avoid & locate to the busier places!

• Not all restaurants take credit cards. Ask before you eat especially if you have no cash on you.

• For the DS protein eaters this is a land of heavenly pastry and bready things. Eat as I did initially at your own windy peril -lol!  It is very tempting. As you may know I can usually ignore bread no probs but here it is in yer face, so warm & freshly baked it is difficult not to reach for it.  Protein is not in short supply but it does require a little more effort to find it. Konzum (a supermarket) has deli counters with chicken schnitzels etc.  A great protein booster is called : ” Rolada Pil Punj Pec” ( a chicken bacon feta filling rolled up in a chicken fillet). Otherwise they have fish, cheese, cold meats and salads. I live in Konzum at lunch time at the mo!

• Prices are more reasonable than the UK but not wonderfully cheap. At this time of the year it is probably more reasonable than just a few weeks ago when the schools here have holidays. We noticed after school began here that we could negotiate our rooms prices and we got much better rates than before.

Soon we will be back on the road heading for home. I ll be sad to say goodbye to this stunning country. I could happily just stay here were it not for my kids and dogs back home.  I m crossing fingers that they ll need Pete back here soon so that I can perhaps accompany him once more!

Well my dear friends, I hope you are all well & that for those of you living with la DS and other surgeries your bowels are behaving….

For now I am off to visit the Archeological museum and to fill my day with the interesting places and sights of Zagreb.